Sweet Seduction
by Slayergirl
Summary: Citrus fluff with minimal plot (you have been warned!) set at the end of Club Dead. Eric and Sookie work a few things out. E/S all the way (of course). It will eventually be 4 chapters long.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Not all is as it first seems... bear with it until the end of the chapter ;-)**

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_The night after I'd rescinded Eric and Bill's invitation to my house, the blond menace was inside it again._

_"How the hell did you get in here? I rescinded your invitation!" I snarled at him in shock._

_He gave me a beatific smile. "I don't think you really wanted me to go, did you, my darling?"_

_"You were being a smug bastard," I said. It didn't quite answer his question, with good reason. "Anyhow, I wasn't aware intention had anything to do with it."_

_"Oh, it doesn't," he said blithely. "That was simply my reason for coming back."_

_"Yes, but how did you get in?" I persisted._

_He chuckled. "Oh, I don't think I'll be telling you that just yet, my lover," he smiled. "Not until we've talked."_

_I looked at him warily. "If I rescind your invitation again, will you leave?"_

_He looked at me unblinkingly. "No."_

_"How? Why?" I was officially worried now; if Eric decided to attack me, I had no way of getting him to leave my house._

_"I'll tell you before I leave – assuming you still want to know," he said. He prowled closer, and I immediately took a step back; my back hit the wall, and he placed his hands either side of my hips on it, effectively trapping me. My heart was hammering with fright. "Sookie, why so afraid?" he asked softly._

_"Eric…" I gulped. "What is this? What are you doing, why are you here?"_

_"I told you, I want to talk to you." He dipped his head to my pulse point, and I froze. "But this is just as well."_

_I put my hands on his chest, and pushed. "Eric, stop it, you're scaring me."_

_"I won't hurt you," he murmured against my neck. To my relief, he lifted his head, and stepped away from me – though he placed his hands on my hips as he did, so I still wasn't going anywhere. He pulled me lightly towards him, and snaked his arms around my waist._

_"You're not doing much talking," I said nervously._

_One hand cupped my cheek, tilting my face up to his. "Aren't I?" he murmured, and kissed me._

_Despite my best efforts, my toes curled, and I whimpered. He pulled me closer, deepening the kiss, and I couldn't help but respond, my arms sneaking round his neck as I stood on my tip-toes to find a better angle. I gave a sigh of approval as his hand stroked up my back under my t-shirt to flick open my bra, before massaging one of my breasts gently. It might not have been vocal, but it was eloquent – as was my response, moaned into his kiss._

_"I want you," he said, directly into my ear. "Since the first time I saw you, I have wanted you." He nibbled at my earlobe. "Yield to me, Sookie," he murmured softly, moving against me so that I could feel his arousal. "Yield to me, let me pleasure you." His tongue flickered in and around my ear, making me squirm against him. He groaned. "Oh, do that again." Hands on my hips, he held me to him and moved against me again, as if we were in the middle of an (extremely) erotic dance._

_I shouldn't do this, I thought. I shouldn't, I should tell him… tell him… What should I tell him, again?_

_Even though he'd frightened me earlier, I realised now that his intention in coming here tonight wasn't to harm, but to seduce me. How much longer would I hold out against him? What reason did I have, now? I was no longer with Bill; I was a free agent. Why not give in to the desires I'd been trying so hard to repress all this time?_

_It was clear he was waiting for my answer before going any further, though he hadn't let up on his movements, swaying with me and caressing me as if we had all the time in the world. "You already are pleasuring me," I managed to whisper through the haze of lust that was fast descending._

_"But I want to give you more," he replied softly, twisting his body so that his chest slid against mine; the now loose cups of my bra rubbed against me pleasurably. "I want to worship your body until you cry with joy." He twisted against me again. "Let me pleasure you, my lover," he coaxed again._

_I nodded, and bunched his t-shirt in my hands; he tore it off, and set about removing my own clothes swiftly and methodically._

_"Beautiful," he murmured, running his fingers lightly, almost reverently, over my breasts. "Utter perfection, such as I have never seen before." He bent, and placed light, open-mouthed kisses on the very point of each. I gave a sigh of pleasure. "You will not regret this," he assured me, as he nuzzled his face between my breasts._

_I certainly wouldn't, I thought, as my knees started to wobble._

_For a creature so powerful, he was surprisingly gentle as he caressed and kissed my body, smiling to himself when he found a place or an action that garnered a greater response than others. "I like touching you," he said, watching me, his lips curling into a lazy grin as I responded to his words. "You like it, too; I knew you would." His hands on the backs of my thighs supported me as he knelt before me, his mouth tracing the curve of my hip-bone in towards my thigh. I gasped in a breath as he kissed my inner thigh, then darted his tongue out to flick once between my legs. An inarticulate cry escaped me, and my legs buckled, but his hands held me firm. "Ah, you like that," he purred._

_He wrapped an arm around my hips, his other hand guiding my hands to his hair, one leg over his shoulder. "Don't worry, I won't drop you," he chuckled against me, his lips barely touching me as they moved. Then his tongue flicked over me again, and I groaned, my fingers winding in his hair as he probed and explored, trying different rhythms and pressures and speeds until he found one that made me utter a strangled moan and clench my fists in his hair, arching my hips helplessly._

_He kept up with that, and with the hand that wasn't supporting me, slid a finger inside me, stroking and twisting until I was panting and writhing against him, short, sharp cries of pleasure escaping me. Then he crooked his finger and sucked, and the world seemed to spin away; he lowered my now-limp body to the floor._

_To my surprise, he lay beside me for a little while, watching me as I got my breath back. "That… was incredible," I managed to gasp out. It's good to give credit where it's due._

_"I hope to repeat it some time. Many times," he said, with a grin. "You taste delicious," he added, his voice almost a throaty purr. And, dear Lord, that was sexy. He gave me a smouldering look through half-lidded eyes. "You are recovered now?"_

_My breathing had evened out, but I didn't think my limbs were responding. "I don't think I'm going to be able to move for a while," I said, trying cautiously to move my unwilling legs._

_His only response was to chuckle, and sit up, lifting me into his arms. "If you need to rest, then you should be in bed," he said; and my body responded immediately to the unspoken suggestion._

_"Mm…"_

_He carried me to my room, and set me on the middle of the bed, before stripping his jeans off. It didn't surprise me much that he was going commando; what surprised me was what that allowed me to see. He raised an eyebrow at me enquiringly, a hint of a smile lurking at the corners of his mouth, as my eyes widened. Wow. That was… Wow. "Like what you see?" he purred._

_I tried very hard to rein my libido in, but it wasn't having any. I blushed, and looked away, but my eyes kept flicking back to him. He prowled closer to the bed, and set first one knee on it, then the other, straddling my legs but not touching them; then his hands were either side of my shoulders, and he was on all fours above me, looking down at me, the intensity of his gaze making me shiver. I gulped._

_"If you don't want this," he said softly, "you have only to say. I won't take you unwilling." He bent his head, and nuzzled my neck gently. "You are nervous," he stated._

_"Well, there's… a lot of you, and… I'm not… um, I mean I've only… and…" I stuttered nonsensically._

_He lowered himself over me, his cool skin spreading fire through my body. "You worry it will hurt?" he queried. I nodded. He shook his head. "I will be careful; I want you to enjoy it." He placed soft kisses along my collarbone and up my neck, and finally our mouths met again. I responded with a passion I didn't even know I possessed, soft sounds of encouragement hummed low in my throat._

_Finally, after what seemed like hour upon hour of glorious pleasure, I felt him at my entrance, and raised my hips eagerly to take him in; he entered so torturously slowly, and the ache inside me flowered to fullness as he pressed further and further in, so deep within me it felt as if he was brushing my heart with every movement – or was that because of the way he was looking at me, as if there was nowhere on earth he'd rather be than buried inside me? I clutched at his shoulders, and moaned his name._

_He swallowed, holding still. "Am I hurting you?"_

_I shook my head. "No," I gasped, "not hurting. Feels good." Stretched, and full to bursting, very nearly, but I'd gone so far beyond the level of arousal I was used to that all I wanted was to wrap my arms and legs around him and never let him out of me again._

_Then he started moving, and all coherent thought went out of the window. I'd never felt pleasure that intense, as I wrapped my legs around his waist, my arms around his shoulders, one hand gripping his hair, the other, I think, clutching his shoulder._

_"Eric… so… close," I whimpered, as everything began to tighten. I squeezed my eyes shut, unsure if I was trying to speed my climax on, or delay it, somehow, so that I could enjoy it for longer._

_He had other ideas. "Open your eyes, lover. Look at me."_

_I forced them open again with some effort, and my whole body seemed to arch off the bed of its own accord; I was vaguely aware that I was biting down on his shoulder, muffling my screams, as he found his own release inside me._

_I made a soft sound of discontent as, when my body finally started to relax again, he pulled out of me._

_He chuckled. "The night is yet young," he said, stroking a hand over my stomach soothingly. "We can do this again, many times, if you wish."_

_"Mm, yes," I hummed, reaching out tentatively to run my hand up and down his arm._

_His response was to kiss me again._

_"You didn't bite me," I realised._

_He chuckled. "You didn't say I could." He kissed my neck, then murmured in my ear, "Does that mean you'd let me, then?"_

_I gave a soft moan at the thought of how that would feel. "Yes," I gasped, and heard the quiet click of his fangs popping down. "Oh, God, yes."_

_He ran the backs of his fangs up and down my neck, teasing me. "You want it?" he purred._

_I whimpered my encouragement._

_"Do you want me inside you when I bite?" I could tell how aroused he was – no less so than I was myself – and started trembling, my mind going into overdrive. My hands curled into fists against his chest._

_"Yes…" I breathed looking up at him, and moaned as he sank down into me again. "Oh, oh, yes…" His thrusts were gentle, almost more like a rocking motion, but it felt incredible. "Yes… Eric, yes… please…"_

_His fangs sank into me as slowly as he had done, and a long, drawn-out wail escaped me as I came apart in his arms again._

_"Perfect," he murmured as he lapped at my throat, his hands still caressing me. "Such a sweet gift." He was arousing me again, and he knew it. "Do you want more, my lover? Shall I tease you and tantalise you? Shall I make you moan and sigh in wanton pleasure?"_

_A little part of me nearly screamed, 'do what the hell you like, just don't stop' – I reined it in. Just. I might be going to let him do it anyway, but I didn't have to embarrass myself into the bargain._

"What an unexpectedly rapturous welcome," said an amused voice in my ear. "And how fascinating that you talk in your sleep."

I sat up, bolt upright, in shock. I was still in my pyjamas on the couch, where I must have dropped off earlier. A smug-looking Viking was sitting beside me, a knowing look in his eyes.

Oh, _shit_.

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**A/N: I know, I know. What a place to leave it ;-) - Next chapter will be up soon, I promise.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you all for your reviews! This will answer your questions regarding how Eric managed to get in (I had a different idea initially, which I might use in another story, but this idea was my preferred option for this story). Eric's not without his finer points - otherwise we wouldn't love him so much - but this shows him at his manipulative, opportunistic best - at least to begin with! Enjoy :-)**

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"How did you get in?" I asked reflexively, momentary panic and embarrassment making perspiration begin to bead on my brow.

"Through the door, like normal people," he replied with a slight smile. I knew he knew what I meant, and growled.

"I distinctly remember rescinding your invitation," I ground out.

"So you did, my darling," he said comfortably.

"So how did you get around that?" I asked, hoping that I'd manage to avoid the awkwardness of… what had just happened.

It wasn't to be. "You really want to know?" he asked, clearly amused.

"Yes," I said firmly.

"The door was unlocked, as usual. I called out to ask if I could come in. You replied in the affirmative."

"I did not! I was asleep," I said defensively.

"And clearly dreaming." And then, in a very bad imitation of my voice, he leered, and said "Oh…oh, yes… Eric, yes…"

I cringed, feeling the blood rising to my cheeks. "Shut up."

"I would very much like to know what I was doing in your dream to elicit that response from you," he grinned.

"I am _not_ having that conversation with you," I yelped, face flaming.

"But Sookie," he said, with a puzzled, serious air, belied by the devilment dancing in his eyes, "if you don't tell me what I was doing, how am I to provide you with re-enactments?"

I lobbed a cushion at him; he caught it easily. "Just… just _stop _it."

"Why? Am I not allowed a moment of victory, knowing you dream of me? Given how aroused you are, it must have been a particularly _good_ dream, too."

"Did you come round here just to embarrass me, or was there something else you wanted?" I asked acerbically.

"Oh, there's _always_ something I want, my lover," he purred. "And right now, that's you." He gave me a considering look. "Sadly, your injuries prevent that. So I suppose you could say that I came round to check on you."

"Well, thanks, I'm just fine," I said huffily. "So you can…"

"And what are you going to do about the problem of your arousal?" he asked, as if he was discussing how a late frost might affect my young seedlings.

"Problem?" I squeaked. Well, sure I was aroused. You dream about incredible hot sex with a drop-dead-gorgeous Viking vampire, and see how unaffected you are. But a problem? Only that he was sitting there, intent on making me squirm in the worst possible way.

A feeling of unavoidable doom crashed over me as I realised I would never, _ever_ hear the end of it.

One corner of his mouth lifted into a smile. "There's only so much you can do for yourself," he said. Then, with a complete change of topic (I wasn't taken in by that for a second, though I welcomed it), he asked, "How is the bruising?"

"Unpleasant and sore," I said dryly.

"I thought as much." Without so much as a by-your-leave, he'd shunted me forwards on the couch, and sat behind me, one leg either side of me, his arms loosely round my waist.

"What are you…?" Then it tumbled to me; this was the position we'd been in the last time he'd given me his blood, back in Jackson. "Oh, no. No way."

"Yes," he said gently. "It's the best way, Sookie." Before I could say anything else, I was presented with a bleeding wrist, and grudgingly started licking it, knowing he was right. "Don't be so dainty. Suck."

I ignored the _double entendre_ as best I could, and tried to block out what I was doing – drinking from a vampire had never done anything for me – but in that lapse of wariness, Eric had slid his free hand under my pyjama bottoms. Before I could comment, there were two fingers inside me, and the heel of his hand was nestled firmly against me, pressing and rubbing. I whimpered, and gripped his bleeding wrist with both hands as my hips arched into his hand. I didn't last long; neither did he.

I swallowed hard. "Thank you," I whispered; I had to remember my manners, after all. I was already starting to feel a lot better, the aches and pains disappearing.

"For what?" he asked with amusement. "Using my blood to heal you, or getting you off? I assure you, the pleasure was as much mine as yours."

"Augh!" I exclaimed. "Do you have to be so… so…"

"Blunt?"

"I was going to say _crude_," I snapped. I should have guessed from the pretty words dream-Eric had said to me that it wasn't real – no way would Eric say the half of those things.

He just chuckled, and brought his hand up to his mouth, licking it clean. "Mm, delicious."

"Oh, _gross._"

"Not at all," he replied, sucking his fingers unconcernedly.

"I swear you're intent on embarrassing me."

"Sookie," he laughed, "along with your quite entrancing embarrassment at my _crudeness_, there is also a considerable amount of arousal. You _like_ me talking dirty to you."

"I do not!" I hissed in denial. All the while conceding to myself that he had a fair point, there.

"My bullshit meter seems to have gone off the end of the scale this evening," he said drolly. "Next you'll be denying that you were having a wet dream about me."

Just because I liked him talking dirty to me, didn't mean I wasn't mortified that he'd overheard me dreaming about him. "I could just rescind your invitation again," I said, through gritted teeth.

"Why bother?" he said. I could tell he was smirking. "All I'd need to do is lurk around until you're asleep and dreaming of me, and you'll soon invite me back in with an _'oh, yes, Eric…'_" I ground my teeth in frustration. Regrettably, that was all too true. "So, what was I doing?"

"I told you, I'm not having that conversation with you."

"Then I'll have to do this the hard way," he shrugged, "and try to find out first-hand what it is that turns you on". His hands slipped under my pyjama top, and he started caressing my breasts lightly.

"Stop it," I said feebly. It sounded unconvincing, even to me.

"What would you rather I did?"

I swallowed. "Eric, please, just stop."

He did, immediately, withdrawing his hands, and rested them lightly on my stomach. "I would never force you, Sookie," he said gently.

"I – I know."

"I'm not Bill," he said softly. "I won't hurt you."

"Eric, I'm not… I can't…"

"Hush, lover. Be still, and heal."

"I'm sorry," I whispered, not sure what I was apologising for.

"None of this was of your making," he said quietly, rubbing my stomach soothingly. "You have nothing to apologise for. It is I who should apologise to you."

"Now I really must be dreaming," I said wryly. "Eric Northman, apologising to a lowly human?"

He chuckled. "No. I merely said I should. I didn't actually do it."

"Hmph." I sat sulkily for a while, and for a moment, he simply held me.

"At least tell me how many times I brought you to orgasm in your dream."

"Oh, give it a rest," I said wearily.

"Three? Four?"

I sighed, giving in to the inevitable. "Three, getting on for four."

"And of those times, how many were we having sex?"

"Two."

"Which two?"

I rolled my eyes. "Second and third."

"So, the first time…" I groaned, but he carried on, "was I fingering you or did I go down on you? Or..."

I took a deep breath, and closed my eyes. "Both. Now, will you _please _just drop it and stop embarrassing me?"

He chuckled. "For the moment, I will." He dropped a surprisingly chaste kiss on my cheek, and smiled against it. "You'll tell me the rest eventually."

And with that parting shot, he was gone.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: In which Sookie comes to a realisation, and decides to act on it. And then second-guesses herself, of course!**

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I realised, of course, after he'd gone, that it was most probably the amount of his blood I'd had that had made me dream so vividly of him (which, no doubt, he'd been well aware of all along) – and, of course, I'd just had a fair bit more. Though my aches and pains were now gone, and I was feeling remarkably sprightly, I dreaded to think what effect that might have on my dream-world.

I picked up the latest romance novel I'd been reading – helpfully entitled _The Viking's Bride_, it was a gift from Tara when she heard about the attack, and she'd given me a knowing wink that I'd tried hard to ignore – from where I'd put it on the floor before I'd dropped off. Okay, so, when I say 'dropped off', what I mean is, closed my eyes to… ah… visualise better a scene from the novel. Starring the Viking and his… new bride (blonde and blue-eyed, of course). And, well… Okay, that probably had something to do with my dreams, too.

I flipped open the book to where the bookmark was; under my scribbled note to myself in the margin ('_anatomically impossible?_') was a neat reply in Eric's handwriting: '_No, but you have to be very limber. Want to try?_' I snapped the book shut in wide-eyed horror and mortification. Though I have to confess, I was also both intrigued, and very, very tempted. Strangely, I had a vision of myself dumping an entire bookshelf full of romance novels in his office, and demanding to know which of the sex scenes were actually viable or not. Possibly with demonstrations.

Maybe it wasn't just my dreams that were being affected by me having had his blood. Or maybe, I thought with an uncomfortable squirm, I should just admit to myself that there was… chemistry there. Big, big chemistry.

Okay, fine, I was lusting after Eric like I'd never lusted after anyone else, and had done from… pretty much the first time I'd seen him. And, okay, yes, I'd been with Bill, and gone into denial about Eric because it was my first relationship, and I desperately wanted it to work. And yes, maybe that made me a naïve idiot.

Maybe it was time to stop being an idiot, and face the facts.

I didn't love Eric, though if I was honest, I did have a certain sneaky liking for him; he had a zest for life that was very hard to resist. He didn't love me, but he'd admitted that he was fond of me; he'd mentioned vaguely that he 'didn't like having feelings', so presumably there was something a little more to it than me just being a useful asset because of my telepathy. He'd made it very clear that he wanted me; and though I hated to admit it, my body had been sending out some very strong hints that it would really like him too, please, thank you very much.

I ran my thumb up and down the spine of the book thoughtfully. So where did that leave me, then? I stared at the book, and suddenly had an idea. I smiled, and put my plan into action.

* * *

I drove back to Bon Temps from Shreveport as if the Devil himself were after me, having delivered my envelope to Fangtasia – ridiculous, as it was the middle of the day, and Eric wouldn't get there until after sunset. There was no going back now, I realised; the doors were shut, and I wouldn't be able to retrieve the envelope unless I had the extreme good fortune to run into Belinda (relatively sensible) or Indira (for a vampire, surprisingly sweet) before Eric picked it up, neither of which was looking good for me as I was working the afternoon shift at Merlotte's, which would run into the evening, and prevent me to from getting to the club before it opened to waylay either of them.

No, there was no going back now. Eric would pick up the envelope, and read what I'd written, and then I'd have to deal with the consequences.

I was so worried about what I'd done that I kept getting orders wrong, until Sam drew me to one side. "What's wrong, cher?" he asked me kindly. "You still upset over the attack? I said you shouldn't have come in for another day or two."

"I-I know," I stammered. "I'm sorry, Sam, I guess I thought I could do this, and…"

He patted my arm awkwardly. "I know, I know. But maybe you should take it easy for a while longer."

I nodded miserably. It had nothing to do with the attack, but I could hardly explain that to Sam. I pulled myself together, got myself through the rest of my shift, and went home with Sam's firm reminder that I wasn't to come in until the end of the week, and only then if I was feeling up to it.

I dragged myself home; it was early evening, and dark. I gave a sigh of part relief, part disappointment, that there was no Corvette outside my house, and let myself in.

Of course, I hadn't reckoned with the fact that Eric had flown over from Shreveport, and was sitting calmly at my kitchen table, waiting for me. "I got your message."

I took in a deep breath. My heart was pounding in my chest. "Oh," I squeaked.

I'd expected him to tease me, or gloat, or say something to embarrass me. He didn't. In fact, his demeanour was calm and steady. He studied me for a very long time. "You're nervous," he observed. He got up slowly, and crossed the kitchen towards me, as if worried I might bolt if he startled me. He halted when he was right in front of me, and reached out to touch my forearm. "Don't be." His tone was surprisingly warm and kind; I looked up at him, and there was gentleness in his eyes.

I felt very shy, and looked away again, but he simply slid his arms around me, and said nothing for a while. I relaxed, little by little, and in the end, wound up with my head resting against his chest, my arms around his waist.

Finally, he spoke again. "Did you have something in mind? Or do you want me to take the lead?"

"Um, I…" I swallowed nervously. "I haven't… I mean, I'm not… I've only been with Bill," I stammered.

"He's luckier than he deserves," he said softly, stroking my hair. He cupped my face gently, and ran his thumb over my cheekbone.

I pondered that response, which wasn't at all what I was expecting. In fact, none of this was what I was expecting. I swallowed again. "I mean, I'm not sure how… how this goes," I said nervously. "Could you…?"

He kissed my forehead. "Of course," he said gently. "But not here." He brushed his lips briefly to mine, and took my hand, giving it a light squeeze. He led me to my room, and turned on the bedside lamp as he perched on the edge of the bed. He patted the mattress beside him invitingly. "Sit beside me?"

I sat down nervously, wondering if he'd pounce, or something, but he simply shifted around so that he could ease me into his arms again. He kissed me gently, then pulled back. I gave him an enquiring look.

"I want you to promise me something," he said.

"What's that?"

"You'll tell me if you're uncomfortable, at any point."

I relaxed a little, and nodded. "Of course."

"Okay." Holding me to his chest, he lay back on the bed, and settled me down beside him. He went back to kissing me, still gentle and unhurried, his hands stroking and caressing. As one hand drifted over my breast, a hungry sound escaped me, and I leant into him, into his hand.

He wrapped his other arm around me, his hand on my hip holding me against him, and repeated the action, but this time his hand pushed my t-shirt out of the way, cupping me through my bra.

Then his fingers stroked my stomach and back, very lightly; it tickled a bit, and I giggled, wriggling. He smiled, and tickled my ribcage briefly; the laughter helped me relax. Maybe that was the idea. Either way, when his fingers found the button of my work pants, I wasn't so nervous. _I'm really doing this,_ I thought in surprise.

"Magnificent," he said, gazing at me as he helped me out of my uniform.

I blushed. "Not so bad yourself."

He chuckled, and flipped open the bedclothes. "Might as well be comfortable," he said, in answer to my raised eyebrows. I slid in nervously beside him, jumping at the feel of his cool skin against mine. "If you've changed your mind, tell me," he said. "Would you rather stop here?"

I shook my head. "I don't want to stop, I'm just…" I shrugged. "Nervous."

"What is it that is making you nervous?" he asked solicitously. I was touched by his concern that I should be comfortable.

I remembered the words I'd said to him in my dream. "There's… a lot of you, and I'm not…"

He smiled, understanding, and laid a finger to my lips. "It will be fine, I promise you. I will make it so it doesn't hurt."

Maybe it's strange, but I believed him, and relaxed back into his arms, getting used to the feel of his body, naked, against mine.

He kept his movements slow and unhurried, his touch light and gentle, feather-soft. Unlike the needy, greedy passion of my dream, this was altogether slower and sweeter. His lips dropped the briefest kisses all over me, barely brushing my skin; but that light touch seemed to inflame every nerve-ending. I moaned aloud, clutching my hands in his hair, as his mouth reached my breast, which he'd been studiously avoiding up until that point. I trembled in pleasure as his tongue curled around my already-hardening nipple, laving and loving it before turning his attention to the other one.

When he kissed his way lower, pulling the bedclothes down with him to leave me lying naked on the bed in front of him, I thought I'd go up in flames. His tongue moved slowly over me, languorously, until my hips started moving with him, seemingly of their own accord, my hands bunched in the sheet below me. He ran his hand sensually up my leg, and eased it over his shoulder, then repeated it over the other side. I gave a shiver of pleasure as he shifted closer, his broad, muscular shoulders now braced against the backs of my thighs as I lay spread open to him.

"Keep your eyes open, watch me," he murmured, before bending his mouth to me again, this time covering me completely with a full, open-mouthed kiss. My hips arched, my toes curled against his back, and a strangled moan escaped me; he didn't stop, but went on, kissing me as if it was my mouth, until all I could see were stars. Even then, he didn't stop, but the kiss became even gentler, and one finger glided inside me, prolonging my orgasm.

I thought I'd died and gone to heaven, as I lay there limply, getting my breathing and heart-rate back under control. He crawled back up the bed, and held me as I calmed. I didn't think I could even speak. He stroked my hair, and murmured soothingly to me in what I guessed must be Old Norse. I surprised myself by snuggling closer to him; I hadn't known quite what to expect from him, but I certainly hadn't expected to be made to feel so cherished, as if nothing in the world was as important as my enjoyment.

I could love Eric, I realised; I could give him my heart utterly and completely and without reservation, if only I was sure he would want it. It wasn't a thought that frightened me, though; I was surprised and curious at the thought, but not afraid, even, for the moment, of getting my heart broken. I felt comfortable and at peace, drifting hazily in the afterglow in Eric's arms.

"We could stop now," he said softly, "if this is as far as you want to go."

I appreciated that, at every stage, he was checking I was still comfortable before moving on. It wasn't just because he was skilled and beautiful that people said sex with him was unforgettable, I realised, but because of his consideration for his partner's needs. He'd been incredibly sweet to me this evening, soothing my nerves and making me feel comfortable and in control. Never once had I felt afraid or reluctant.

"I need a little longer to recover," I replied, just as softly. "But I don't want to stop completely."

He smiled, and it lit his entire face up. "That is good."

* * *

**A/N: Last chapter will be up soon - in which you'll find out what was in the envelope!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: The moment(s) you've all been waiting for...!**

* * *

He kissed me again, no less gently than before, when I reached out hesitantly to touch him, my fingertips just grazing his jawline. He pulled back, letting me explore the contours of his body, at first shyly, tentatively, then with more confidence. I hesitated when I reached the hard planes of his stomach, and he rested his hand lightly over mine. "Sookie? Do you want to, or is that too much?"

I blushed, unable to look him in the eye, until he tilted my chin up with his finger. "I, um…"

"You want me to guide you?" he asked softly. I nodded, and dropped my eyes again, but he didn't laugh at my shyness, just eased my hand down his body, under his own, wrapping both our hands around his length. He was clearly much, much bigger than I was used to, but his patience put me more at ease. He gave a low groan as our hands started stroking him, and bent his head to kiss me. I quivered, feeling him under my hand, and his hand over mine; something about it made me feel more alive than I'd ever felt – perhaps the knowledge that a creature as powerful as Eric had given himself into my hands, I don't know. All I know is that the more I stroked him, the more I wanted him inside me.

I hadn't realised my grip was tightening until I whimpered into his mouth pleadingly, and he helped me guide him into position before gently peeling my hand away. "Sorry, did I… was that too tight?" I asked.

He shook his head. "Far from it," he assured me. He looked me in the eyes. "Yes? Or do you want to stop?"

"I don't want to stop," I whispered. The sound that escaped him as he eased inside me was something like a deep, contented purr of pleasure. If I'm honest, I was pretty near purring myself. Soft gasps were all I could manage by way of breathing, and I felt trembly all over. "Oh, sweet _Jesus,_" I gulped against his shoulder.

"Hurting?"

I shook my head. "No, not a bit." It didn't, but I was stretched and full, and if he'd been even fractionally bigger, it almost certainly would have. "Nothing… has ever… felt quite this good," I managed to whisper.

I could feel him smile against my ear, as he eased my leg over his hip. "Wait till I start moving," he murmured, and twisted his hips gently.

"Ohhh…" I clutched at his shoulders, my eyes widening. If he was going to do that again, I was in for one hell of a night. Or, maybe, heaven would be more appropriate in this instance.

"Feels good?"

"Feels very good," I answered breathlessly. "Feels very, very, very good."

"As good as in your dream?" he asked archly, pulling out gently almost all the way, then slowly pushing back in again.

"So… much better," I whimpered, my toes curling as he set up a rhythm. "Probably… won't… last long."

He smiled down at me. "Not the first time, maybe."

"Hmm?"

"Well, I have to exceed my record from your dream, don't I?" he said with a puckish smile. "One down, _at least_ three to go."

The thoughts that assailed me then nearly caused me to faint. "Oh, oh my," I breathed. I'm not sure if it was the 'three' or the 'at least' that got me more. Everything seemed to go a little fuzzy and dark around the edges, and my whole body fluttered. I wound my fingers in his hair, and buried my face in his chest, the coolness of his skin soothing my now-burning cheek. He continued his movements, but stroked my hair a while before easing my head back so I was looking into his eyes again.

Somehow, that was all it took to push me over the edge, and I cried out, arching my body to his and digging my fingers into his shoulders.

"You are even more beautiful in ecstasy," he said softly as I calmed. "I didn't think that could be possible."

I blushed at the compliment, tears pricking my eyes. In some ways, I guess I'd never really believed all the nice things he'd said to me, thinking he was just trying to get me into bed. It meant more than I really wanted to accept to hear him say something so obviously heartfelt _after_ he'd got me there.

He must have realised what effect it had had on me, because he caressed my cheek gently, and smiled. "Ah, no, don't cry, my lover."

I gave a watery smile, and nestled into his arms.

"Are you okay?" he asked, tucking my head under his chin so that I felt cocooned and comforted.

I nodded. "More than okay," I whispered.

"You need to rest a while?" I could feel he was already aroused again, and my lower body seemed to flutter with what I can only describe as a deep, aching hunger in response.

"No," I said, gulping. "Don't need to rest yet."

He chuckled, delighted. "What would you like, then? Some other position? Perhaps you'd like to be on top."

I was a little shy about that (I'd – ah – bounce quite a bit, if you know what I mean, and I felt a bit self-conscious about it), so I shook my head. "Not on top."

"Hmm…" he stroked my hair thoughtfully. "Yes…"

"What?"

"Something I think you might like," he smiled.

"What's that?"

"Like this," he said, helping me onto my stomach, my upper body raised on my forearms. Then he eased himself over me, into me, his arms crossing underneath my bust, hands flat on the bed to support himself, and his lips brushing my neck and shoulder in tiny kisses. "Okay?"

It felt surprisingly intimate, tender and loving. I gulped, and nodded.

"Not crushing you?" he checked.

I shook my head, and shifted my legs to give him better access, whimpering in encouragement as it enabled him to slip deeper inside me. Without realising it, I laid my hands over his; he laced his fingers with mine, and squeezed them lightly as he began moving.

It wasn't long before I was moaning, wondering if I'd be able to hold myself up much longer. When my arms started trembling, he placed his hands – arms still crossed, and fingers still entwined with mine – on my shoulders to help support me; and something about the protectiveness of it made me throw my head back on his shoulder as my whole body jolted. "So close," I whispered.

He nuzzled my ear. "What would make it perfect for you?"

I wasn't sure I could breathe any more. "Bite me?" I stuttered.

He gave a long, low moan, and sank his fangs into my neck slowly, almost sensually; it was enough to overload my senses completely, and I clutched at his fingers, crying out his name, over and over and over again.

I didn't say anything as I calmed down, partly because I didn't think I could formulate anything remotely coherent, but also because I realised there weren't enough superlatives in the world to describe how I felt about what we'd just done. It didn't seem right with me to call it – even think of it – just as sex. The way he'd wrapped his arms around me, supported me, held hands with me as he'd kissed my shoulder and neck, and moved inside me – it had felt very much more like making love than anything else.

"You liked that?" he asked softly.

"'Like' is nowhere near strong enough," I told him, once I'd calmed down enough to speak. "None of the words I can think of do it justice."

He gave a little purr, pleased with himself and with my reaction. "I am glad to hear it," he said, wrapping his arms around me.

* * *

Many orgasms (I lost count of how many) and several hours later, he got up regretfully, dressing himself. "I must return to Shreveport, if I am to beat the sun home," he said softly, bending over to kiss me one last time, and caressing my hair lightly. He gave a sudden grin, and reached inside his jacket pocket. "Your book, before I forget." Then, with another breath-stealing kiss, he was gone.

I flipped the book open curiously. Under my reply to his last message –'_Perhaps something a little less adventurous, at least to begin with?_'_ – _was a response from Eric that made me smile, and hug the book to my chest as if it were the man himself.

'_It could only be an adventure with you, Sookie._'

It was an adventure I wanted to go on with him for a long, long time.

* * *

**A/N: Yes, it's an inconclusive ending, quite deliberately. If the plot bunny comes up trumps, there may be a sequel - _Adventures With A Vampire_ - but I'm not promising. For now, though, we leave them here.**


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